


like the feel of your hand in mine

by ariadne_odair



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, and thats all you really need to know, and they are in love, and very obvious about it, arthur and merlin are in love, arthur is a businessman and merlin works at an animal shelter, gwaine would like to eat his meal in peace thank you, merlin would just like people to leave his bf aLonE, modern au? guess thats relevant, people keep trying to flirt with arthur and/or take over his company
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22322371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_odair/pseuds/ariadne_odair
Summary: “What?” Merlin yelps. “He fancies you?”“I don’t know!” Arthur snaps. “Gwaine seems to think so, he’s always hanging around - ““This is terrible,” Merlin says in disbelief. “And he’s already offered you three glasses of water?”“Yes, but - ““He’s probably trying to drown you.”“I - wait, what?”“That’s what the last one tried to do,” Merlin remembers thoughtfully. “The last intern who had a crush on you, what was her name? Sophia?”“She didn’t try to drown me, it was an - unfortunate boating incident.”“Unfortunate for you because you nearly drowned,” Merlin snorts.-Arthur isn’t sure if the new guy in the office is flirting with him, or plotting to overthrow his company. (Sadly, Arthur has had experience with both.) Merlin is convinced of the latter, but Merlin also thinks the entire thing is hilarious and is being no help whatsoever.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 111
Kudos: 978





	like the feel of your hand in mine

The first time someone brings it up, Merlin is 1) absolutely starving, and 2) not listening to anything Gwaine is saying as a consequence. 

It’s Friday evening and they’re crowded around their usual table at the pub. Albion has a large university and it’s heaving. Merlin can see a bunch of uni students gathered around the bar, egging each other and downing a round of shots. (They’re going to regret doing the bubble gum flavoured one; _ Merlin _regrets doing the bubble gum flavoured one to this day.)

It’s a nice pub, though. Their booths are comfy and it’s well lit; there’s always a good atmosphere, people chatting and laughing, glasses clinking in the background.

On this occasion, hardly any of them are drinking, hence Merlin’s gaze burning holes into the food menu. Arthur isn’t drinking because he’s the designated driver, Percival has football training tomorrow, and Leon doesn’t drink much anyway. Merlin doesn’t know if it’s for a reason, or just his preference, but Merlin isn’t an insensitive dick like some people, (Gwaine), so he’s never asked.

Which leaves Gwaine, who suggested he could drink four times his usual amount to compensate for the others. Needless to say, this was heavily vetoed. 

“You will never guess who was in the office today,” Gwaine is saying, wide grin spreading across his face. “It was that - hey, Merlin!”

Merlin doesn’t look up from the starters. “What?”

“You’ll want to hear this, are you listening?”

“Yes,” lies Merlin, who is mentally considering his stomach size and whether it is worth getting halloumi sticks if he’s not going to eat them. “I’m listening.”

Gwaine makes a satisfied noise. “Good. So, I’m walking to Arthur’s office, and I get to the door and - “

“Are you getting a side?” Merlin asks abruptly, elbowing Arthur in the ribs.

“Merlin!” Gwaine snaps, but Merlin ignores him, staring at his boyfriend instead.

It’s completely unfair how good Arthur looks sometimes. Today he’s in smart black jeans and a red shirt, because it’s casual Friday in the office. Arthur’s casual outfit is identical to Merlin’s ‘would wear to meet the Queen outfit,’ because rich people are, as Merlin has long suspected, insane. 

Arthur’s blond hair is slightly ruffled, and Merlin would bet he ran his hands through it on the drive here. The lights shine off it, glinting it gold. He has one arm looped around Merlin’s shoulders, and the shirt is tight in a way that shows how muscular he is.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “I guess I am now.”

Merlin frowns at him. “What do you mean?”

“Because you always eat half my food anyway,” Arthur complains. “If I get a side, maybe that will fill you up a bit. Then I’ll be able to eat my main in peace.”

“I never do that,” Merlin says dismissively.

“Right,” Arthur drawls. Merlin hates him. “You can’t choose what side you want anyway. We might as well get one each and share.”

“Who said romance was dead?” Merlin chirps, and he can tell Arthur is struggling to hide his smile. He’s doing all he can to appear deadpan, but his eyes give him away. 

Merlin sways a little closer unconsciously, eyes dropping to Arthur’s lips. Arthur’s hand tightens on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing over Merlin’s collarbone and making him shiver. 

“Can I get back to the story?” Gwaine interrupts grumpily. 

Merlin sighs. “Can I order my food first?”

“I’m hungry,” Percival adds, winking at Merlin. He may genuinely be hungry, or he may just be winding Gwaine up. It’s likely a mixture of the two. “We’ll order and then you can tell us about Arthur’s fan club today, yeah?”

“I could eat,” Leon deadpans, and Gwaine groans in defeat, throwing his hands in the air.

“We’ll go first,” Merlin says quickly, and tugs Arthur after him. 

He weaves his way through the crowd expertly, hand linked with Arthur’s. Once they get to the bar, Merlin worms his way into a space. Arthur is stood behind him and he leans against Merlin’s back, slipping his hands around Merlin’s waist.

“Is Gwaine’s story going to be interesting?” Merlin asks, settling back into Arthur’s hold.

“Are Gwaine’s stories ever interesting?” Arthur mutters. He drops his chin onto Merlin’s shoulder. “Do you want to sneak out for ten minutes after we’ve ordered?”

“Okay,” Merlin agrees casually, even as his pulse skips a beat.

“Good, want to kiss you,” Arthur murmurs, right into his ear, and then shakes with laughter when it takes Merlin three attempts to stutter out their order. 

Merlin isn’t much more coherent after fifteen minutes of Arthur pressing him against the wall and leaving his lips swollen. So when Gwaine finally does tell his story about some guy at Arthur’s work, Merlin is just as distracted as before. Only this time it’s by 1) Arthur’s hand on his thigh, and 2) planning the best way to steal Arthur’s chips off his plate. 

  
  


-

Thankfully, Gwaine doesn’t drink four times his body weight in vodka, so the rest of the night goes smoothly enough. They stay for a few more hours, before everyone heads home. 

Arthur drives Merlin back, heat cranked up because Merlin is notoriously always cold. Arthur’s car is really nice; it smells good and all the functions work and it’s some fancy make Merlin couldn’t give a shit about.

The added bonus of being in Arthur’s car, is that Arthur himself is driving it. Looking all confident, with one hand on the wheel and one on Merlin’s knee. He’s not sure if ‘can competently drive a car and look good doing it’ is a recognised kink.

Merlin is fiddling with Arthur’s radio, when Arthur clears his throat. “Merlin.”

He sounds oddly serious, and Merlin’s gaze flits to his. They’re at a red light and he’s tapping his thumb against the steering wheel. “About what Gwaine said tonight, about the office. I think it’s a load of rubbish, but you know that I’d never - I wouldn’t - “

Arthur is looking so solemn and anxious, that Merlin rushes to answer. “Of course, Arthur.”

“Oh good,” Arthur breathes, shoulders slumping in relief. “Even if Gwaine is right about - the situation, you’re the only person I care about. I’d never lead anybody - “

Merlin has absolutely no idea what Arthur is talking about, having ignored the majority of Gwaine’s impassioned tale. Something about some man working at Arthur’s office, waiting about for Arthur? Honestly, Merlin has no clue, but he’ll do anything to get that look off Arthur’s face.

“I love you,” Merlin says hurriedly, flushing slightly at the words. He’s only said them once before, it still getting used to speaking them out loud. “And you love me, I know that.”

He isn’t the only one blushing; pink tinges Arthur’s cheek, his eyes going wide. 

“I do,” Arthur agrees softly, and the moment feels gentle and delicate in the darkness of the car.

Someone beeps behind them; the traffic light has turned green. Arthur swears loudly. Merlin turns around and sticks his middle finger up at the car behind.

  
“Merlin,” Arthur hisses, and puts his foot down, flooring it. 

Merlin cranes his neck to look behind them. “It’s alright, they’re not following us.”

“What a relief.” Arthur checks his mirror. “But seriously, I think Gwaine has read the situation wrong. The guy is a bit of bootlicker, but I don’t think he thinks of me - like that.”

Merlin sits up in his seat. “Can we stop at the drive through?”

“You cannot possibly still be hungry.”

“Arthur.”

“_ No _.”

  
  


-

Arthur takes the next exit and buys him a milkshake.

  
  


-

  
  
  


Merlin spends the next Saturday helping Arthur prepare a speech. Arthur’s team is going away for a week for a work conference, at some fancy retreat place, away from the city. Arthur, as a Head of Department, has to do the introductory speech, which is apparently a Big Deal and the cause of Arthur’s current freak out.

Merlin has known Arthur for long enough that he knows Arthur’s freakouts fall into two distinct categories. Category one is a very controlled freak out, where Arthur says very little, passes on basic human requirements like sleep and eating, and throws himself into paperwork until he passes out.

Category one can be attributed to Uther Pendragon’s shitty parenting. Or at least that’s what Merlin suspects; prioritising your son’s academic achievements and work ethic over his emotional well being, leaves a certain mark.

It makes Merlin furious just thinking about it.

Merlin didn’t even know there was a second category, until he got close enough to Arthur that Arthur started to let his guard down. Arthur works so hard on the image he presents to the world, that it’s only people he really trusts that get to see beneath the carefully cultivated profile.

At the present, Arthur is sat cross legged on Merlin’s sofa. He is slumped so far down that he may well have become one with the pillows. He’s dressed in an oversized Camelot University hoodie, and pyjamas bottoms with crowns on. Merlin brought them as a joke present three years ago, because Gwaine kept calling Arthur ‘princess.’

“This,” Arthur declares, slamming his laptop shut. “Is utter shit.”

“It’s not utter shit.”

“It is,” Arthur says mournfully. “I have no idea what to write.”

Merlin leans against the door frame, arms crossed. “Do you want me to read it through?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Merlin says gently. “I’m going to make us something to eat. Perhaps you could look over your list whilst I’m getting lunch ready?”

Arthur grunts, reaching for the written list he’d made up earlier. It’s something his therapist suggested, to help Arthur with his anxiety. It makes it more manageable, less overwhelming if you can break the tasks and tick them off when they’re completed. Arthur is notoriously hard on himself; Merlin knows it settles something in him to see he’s progressing.

He leaves a cup of tea on a coaster, knowing it’ll probably go cold, but wanting to try anyway. There’s enough food in the kitchen to make some pasta, he was paid last week and Merlin budgets carefully, so the cupboards are pretty full. 

His phone pings whilst the water is boiling. Merlin flicks the kettle off with one hand, reading the message with another. It’s from Leon, who will be going on the business trip with Arthur and likely has guessed what he’s spending his weekend doing.

**Leon:** Hi Merlin. Sent a few texts to Arthur, but I think his phone is turned off. I’m guessing he’s with you. Can you let him know he can call me if he needs anything? Or if he just wants to talk. Thanks, Leon. 

Merlin smiles as he types a quick reply. Leon’s known Arthur the longest of all of them. He knows Arthur better than even Merlin does.

**Merlin:** Yeah, he’s with me. I’ll let him know. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. Thank you, Leon.

Leon must have been waiting by his phone, because the reply is almost instantaneous. 

**Leon: **Thank you, Merlin. Have a good weekend.

Merlin replies with a quick, “You too!” and a handful of emojis. The pasta doesn’t take long to make, Merlin dumps an extra handful of grated cheese on Arthur’s. He makes another cup of tea for them both, before poking his head around the door. 

“Arthur?” Merlin calls. “Did you want some pasta?”

Arthur rubs his face tiredly. “Yes, thank you.”

He pushes himself off the sofa, walking towards the kitchen. “I made the type you like,” Merlin begins. “And they had that fancy cheese on discount at Tesco, probably a waste to grate it but - “

He’s abruptly cut off by Arthur kissing him. Strong arms encircle his waist, gently pushing him back against the counter. Arthur’s lips are soft, Merlin’s mouth parting under Arthur’s, slow and reverent, until Merlin’s toes curl.

“Thank you,” Arthur breathes, when they break apart. 

“For what?” Merlin whispers, resting his forehead softly against Arthur’s. 

Arthur ducks his head, glancing at the floor. “For - for all this. I know I’m not - a lot of fun when I’m like this.”

“Like what?” Merlin says fiercely. “When you’re nervous? When you’re anxious about something that most people would feel at least mildly anxious about? When you care about your _ job _?”

Arthur threads a hand through the soft hair at the nape of Merlin’s neck. “I just - sometimes it feels like my brain won’t shut off. I want this speech to be perfect.”

“I know, and it will be,” Merlin states with conviction. “The speech will be brilliant and you will be brilliant. It will be brilliant. It will be less brilliant if you collapse, because you haven’t eaten or slept all weekend.”

“You raise a good point.”

“_ You _ need to eat the fancy cheese pasta. Come on.”

Merlin pushes Arthur towards a chair. Arthur drops into it, but he catches Merlin’s wrist before Merlin can seat himself. He brushes his lips over Merlin’s pulse point, and sparks flood through Merlin’s veins. By the smirk on Arthur’s face, he knows exactly how Merlin feels.

Merlin kicks Arthur in the shin, (lovingly), and takes a big bite of pasta. “Okay. Fancy cheese pasta. Finish the speech. Practice the speech?”

“Practice the speech,” Arthur confirms.

“Cool. You can pretend I’m the audience.”

Arthur pulls a face. “And guess who will be in the audience.”

Merlin shrugs. “All the boring rich people at your company. And Gwaine.”

Arthur points at him with his fork. “Yes and yes. Guess who else.”

Merlin stares at him. “You know, this is the most boring guess who game I’ve ever played.”

“Cedric,” Arthur hisses.

Merlin tries to look like that name means something to him. “Cedric.”

Arthur widens his eyes. “You know, the one that Gwaine thinks - “

“Right,” Merlin agrees, even though he still doesn’t know. “That one.”

A lot of the people at Arthur’s firm worked under Uther, which mean they’re awful and decrepit and bigoted. They either completely underestimate Arthur or think they can manipulate him; it makes Merlin upset just thinking about it. He doesn’t want to talk about it, at least not right now, when Arthur has relaxed enough to eat half a bowl of pasta. 

Merlin reaches for the salt and changes the subject. 

-

  
  


Arthur leaves for the conference on Monday. Merlin stays the night before and waves him off the next morning. Arthur promises to call him as soon as he can and let him know how the speech went. 

He keeps his phone firmly clutched in his hand at work that morning. Merlin works at an animal rescue centre, and neither his boss or the dogs will mind him answering a call.

“Good morning, Merlin,” Freya, one of the new vets, greets softly. She’s only been here for a few weeks, and she’s really shy. 

She’s been coming out of her shell more and more recently, though, and Merlin tries not to beam back too widely in response. “Good morning, Freya.”

His phone rings as he’s walking one of the older dogs, an elderly Labrador called Mabel, whose more than happen to take a nap break.

“Hi,” Merlin answers breathlessly.

“Hi,” Arthur answers. “It - it went really well.”

“Arthur! That’s amazing! Tell me everything - unless you don’t want to talk about it. That’s okay, too, we can - “

“Merlin, breathe before you pass out,” Arthur chides, so fond he can hear it through the phone line. “We can talk about it, it’s why I called _ you, _idiot.”

“Did they clap?”

Arthur snorts. “Did they _ clap _?”

“At the end of the speech!”

“_ That’s _ what you’re asking?” 

“I don’t know what to ask!”

Hearing Arthur’s laugh makes something knock loose in his chest. Merlin drops to the floor, sitting with his back to the wall. He presses the phone closer to his ear. Mabel snuffles over to him, plonking her head in his lap.

“Yes, they clapped.” Arthur clears his throat. “Once I’m up there, I can do it. I’m fine. It’s just all the overthinking beforehand. I feel - I know it seems stupid, to get so worked up, only for it to work out fine - “

“It’s not stupid,” Merlin says immediately. “It’s not. You’re not stupid.”

Arthur’s breath hitches. “Thank you. I might need you to remind me of that.”

Merlin’s throat feels tight. “Always.”

Arthur coughs. “I can tell you more about it later, I just - I wanted you to be the first one to know.”

“I’ve been holding my phone all morning,” Merlin admits. “Are you on a break now, then?”

“Yeah. What are you doing?”

“Walking Mabel.” She lifts her head upon hearing her name, tail thumping against the ground. “Do you think I could get a dog?”

“No,” Arthur says immediately..

Merlin scowls. “Why?”

“Because dogs need exercise and you hate exercise.”

“True.” Merlin sits up straight. “Hey, you like exercise - “

“I’m not getting a dog, Merlin.”

“You could get a cat.”

“No. Oh god, hang on.” There’s the sound of muffled voices, then the door banging shut, then Arthur hisses into the phone, “That’s the third glass of water Cedric has offered me. I think Gwaine might have been right.”

Merlin blinks. “About you - being dehydrated?”

  
“What? Merlin, what are you talking about? No, about Cedric - you know.”

Merlin sighs. “Arthur, this is a phone conversation. I can’t see what gesture you just made.”

“Oh, right. As much as it pains me to admit Gwaine is correct about anything, I think maybe Cedric does - fancy me.”

“What?” Merlin yelps. “He _ fancies _you!”

“I don’t know!” Arthur babbles back. “Gwaine seems to think so, he’s always hanging around - “

“This is terrible,” Merlin says in disbelief. 

Arthur sounds panicked. “Merlin, you must know I would never - “

“And he’s already offered you three glasses of water?”

“Yes, but - “

“He’s probably trying to drown you.”

“I - wait, what?”

“That’s what the last one tried to do,” Merlin remembers thoughtfully. “The last intern who had a crush on you, what was her name? Sophia?”

“She didn’t try to drown me, it was an - unfortunate boating incident.”

“Unfortunate for you because you nearly drowned,” Merlin snorts. “Arthur, this is _ terrible _ . Whenever people at your work have a crush on, they’re always _ insane. _Remember Vivian? She had your prenuptials already drafted, and you’d had one conversation at the printer.”

“I know,” Arthur says miserably. “And it’s not just me they try to get to. Remember when Katrina almost took over the company after flirting with my father?”

“I try not to think about that.” Merlin scratches Mabel behind the ears. “What’s this Cedric like, then?”

Arthur sighs. “Not a bad worker, in all fairness. He’s just - always hanging around.” There’s a pause, then Arthur says tentatively, “You know that I don’t lead people on, right? I wouldn’t do that to - “

“Arthur,” Merlin interrupts, frowning. “Of course I do. I know that, I’m not upset because someone fancies you. I’m upset because people think they can use you like that.”

Arthur clears his throat. “Good, I just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Well, I do.”

“They’re calling everyone back in. I have to go.”

“Okay.” Merlin gets to his feet, watching as Mabel gets her paws beneath her. He gives her a well done pat when she’s done it. “I’ll talk to you later. On a completely unrelated note, the newest litter of kittens are ready to be re-homed.”

“Merlin. Do _ not. _”

  
  


-

  
  


Merlin pops into Tesco on the way home. He promised his Mum that he would check on Uncle Gaius, and he doubts Gaius has anything edible in his house. Not anything that Merlin would eat anyway. 

“Gaius.” Merlin calls, knocking on the door. He pulls his scarf further up over his face. “Let me in, it’s cold outside.”

The door creaks open a crack. Gaius peers around the frame suspiciously, his face clearing when he realises who it is. “Merlin! I thought you were a scammer.”

“A scammer?” Merlin repeats, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t think scammers introduce themselves as your nephew.”

“Where are your gloves?” Gaius demands. Even though Merlin is twenty four years old, Gaius never fails to make him feel like the little boy that was scolded at Will’s tenth birthday party for eating too much cake. “You better come in before your hands fall off.”

“I left them in Arthur’s car,” Merlin shrugs. He holds up his shopping bag; it’s a reusable one because Merlin is big on saving the turtles. “I bought biscuits.”

Gaius puts the kettle on and Merlin curls up on the sofa. 

Every time he visits Gaius’ house, it reminds him of being a little boy again. Hunith had to work long hours and childminders were expensive, so three nights out of five, Gaius would collect Merlin from school. He’d make Merlin beans on toast and let him look through all his books. 

“Now, how are you getting on at the rescue shelter?” Gaius asks. “I never see you anymore.”

“I was here last week,” Merlin protests. “And I called you on Wednesday! Work is going really well, we’re doing a fundraiser next month. Do you want me to get you tickets?”

“That would be lovely.” Gaius stirs his tea. “Perhaps I could look at some of the cats.”

“Of course, if you’d like that,” Merlin says gently. Gaius’ old tabby cat passed away last month. Merlin hadn’t wanted to say anything about adopting a new one, in case Gaius wasn’t - or wasn’t ever going to be - ready. “I have some photos on my phone of the cats we currently have looking for new homes. Do you want to see them?”

Gaius says he does, so they spend the next half hour looking through cute cat photos. Merlin is just wondering whether he can persuade Gaius to adopt two, when the doorbell rings.

“That’s Arthur,” Merlin says quickly. “It’s not a scammer, Gaius.”

Gaius arches an eyebrow. “You don’t know that, Merlin. Cold callers are very clever these days. I watched a fascinating documentary about it on Netflix.”

“Of course you did,” Merlin mutters.

Gaius goes to the door, and Arthur’s familiar voice spills through into the corridor.

“See!” Merlin shouts from where he’s still perched on the sofa. “I told you it wasn’t a scammer!”

He smiles when he hears Gaius’ fond. “My boy!” Gaius has known Arthur for almost as long as he’s known Merlin. He was Uther’s senior business adviser, worked with him for years. Gaius left a few years ago and is a university professor now; he acts as though the students are a nightmare, but Merlin knows he secretly loves it. It’s not like any of them are a tenth as annoying as Merlin was at eighteen.

“Merlin is here, too,” Gaius announces, dragging Arthur into the living room. “How lovely to have both you boys together.”

“He knows I’m here, he’s picking me up,” Merlin points out, which Gaius ignores. “Arthur, you can’t go to the pub like that.”

His voice is steady, but his heart beats a little faster when he sees Arthur. Arthur’s cheeks are flushed from the cold, eyes bright and icy blue. He’s wearing an expensive black pea-coat and leather gloves Merlin brought him for Christmas. “We’re not going to the pub. We’re going to that Italian restaurant, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Idiot,” Arthur murmurs, and tugs Merlin up from the sofa and reels him into a kiss. 

Merlin loops his arms around Arthur’s neck, wincing. “Arthur, you’re freezing.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Yes, the work trip went really well, I’m glad to be back. Thank you for asking, Merlin.”

Merlin links his fingers through Arthur’s. “Oh my god, we should tell Gaius about Cedric.”

Arthur groans, stepping back but keeping their hands laced together. “Don’t. Six glasses of water, Merlin. Six.”

“Whose Cedric?” Gaius asks, looking between the two of them. “Someone from work?”

“He fancies Arthur,” Merlin supplies helpfully, dodging the elbow Arthur aims at his ribs.

Gaius nods seriously. “I see. Do we suspect this is a repeat of the Sophia situation?”

“I think it could be more of a Vivian,” Merlin explains, and bursts into laughter when Arthur punches him in the shoulder. “We should tell Gaius! Then if Cedric does try to get you to sign over the company to him, we have another witness!”

“I don’t have the authority to do that,” Arthur grumbles. “He’s just very - attentive. It’s irritating.”

Merlin sighs. “Arthur, Cedric bothering you all the time with unwanted attention is _ harassment. _And if Cedric is trying to take over the company by going through you, then we should just kill him first and get it over with.”

“Right, that’s it, time to leave,” Arthur says loudly. “Thank you for breaking down my options. Bye, Gaius.”

“See you later, Gaius!” Merlin calls over his shoulder as Arthur propels him out the door. “I’ll call you if Bluebell is still available to adopt! Or if we need to hide a body!”

“Shut up,” Arthur hisses, and Merlin laughs all the way to the restaurant.

  
  
  
  


-

  
  


Date night is nice in theory, but the execution is a bit more difficult when you both have full time jobs. Merlin is so exhausted that he’d been relieved when Arthur texted and said he was elbow deep in paperwork. At the time, Merlin had been elbow deep in vaccinating seven puppies who had been dumped by a river.

It had been a long shift and Merlin finishes late, rubbing his eyes as he waves goodbye to the night staff. He has two texts from Arthur, one a couple hours old saying he cancelled their reservations. The other one is more recent, only sent half an hour ago. Arthur’s still at work.

Merlin climbs into his car, hitting call. 

“Arthur Pendragon.”

Merlin blinks. “Er, Merlin Emrys.”

“Merlin! Sorry, I didn’t check who was calling when I answered. Today has been a complete shit show.” 

Merlin hums. “Same. You think some prawn crackers might make it better?”

“You still haven’t eaten?”

“I’ve just finished work,” Merlin yawns.

“Sweetheart,” Arthur murmurs, the tension draining out of Merlin’s shoulders. “I’ll order take out. By the time you get here it should be delivered, then we can go home.”

“Okay,” Merlin mumbles. “Can you get that - “

“Rice you like, I know. I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll drive over now.”

There’s a beat, then Arthur says softly, “Drive safe.”

The roads are blissfully quiet. Merlin pulls up to Arthur’s workplace, parks in a way that would have him fail his driving test, and pushes through the doors. The building that Arthur works is all sleek and silver; high glass windows and security guards at all the doors.

Merlin nods tiredly at the guard on duty. “Hello, Charlie. Is Arthur still here?”

“Mr Pendragon said to send you straight up.”

“Thanks.”

Once he gets to the top floor, Merlin is hit by the realisation he hasn’t peed all day, and detours to the bathroom. He walks through the door, only to stumble straight into someone. Their shoulder painfully collides with Merlin’s. “Ouch!”

“Watch where you’re going,” the other man snaps. 

“You walked into me,” Merlin scowls. 

The other man glares at him. “No, I didn’t!”

There’s absolutely no way Merlin is peeing in front of this greasy haired arsehole. He settles for slamming back through the door, throwing a glare over his shoulder as he leaves.

He’s been to Arthur’s office plenty of times, and once he gets there, Merlin takes a moment, leaning against the door frame. 

Arthur’s tie has been loosened, his sleeves rolled up, showing strong, tanned forearms. He’s lent back in his chair, legs slightly spread as he reads over the papers spread across his desk. Arthur looks every inch the powerful businessman, and Merlin has no choice but to climb into Arthur’s lap.

Arthur makes a strangled noise; he obviously hadn’t noticed Merlin standing there. Merlin adjusts himself so he’s sat sideways, legs slung over the arm of the chair, head resting against Arthur’s chest. Arthur slides an arm around his wait, keeping Merlin steady. “Good evening.”

Merlin peers at the bags on Arthur’s desk, “Did you get prawn crackers?”

Arthur presses an open mouthed kiss to Merlin’s jaw. “Two bags.”

“You’re the best,” Merlin breathes. Arthur just snorts and buries his face into Merlin’s neck, spinning them slowly in the chair.

  
  
  
  


-

  
  
  
  


Merlin nearly misses it when The Great Cedric Debacle comes to a head. Shocking, given he hadn’t been paying attention for most of it.

Arthur tells him that Cedric is still giving off the bootlicker vibes, but he hasn’t tried to cross any lines. That’s what Merlin’s main worry is; not for any ridiculous reason like jealousy, but because he doesn’t want Arthur to be put through that. It makes Merlin angry enough that people treat Arthur like a bargaining chip, the way Sophia and Vivian took one look at his connections and tried to manipulate the situation.

Merlin wishes he could protect Arthur from all of that. 

But he can’t. All he can do is watch the snap chats Arthur sends him of his growing plastic cup collection. Arthur seems more mildly irritated than anything, which is probably good, but it doesn’t mean Merlin dials down his suspicion.

Turns out, Merlin was right to be suspicious. 

Merlin heads to Arthur’s on a Saturday, scarf wrapped around his face and hands shoved in his pockets. Leon is bringing pizza and Percival is bringing drinks. Gwaine is supposedly bringing himself, but he went quiet on the group chat an hour ago - no emojis! - so god knows where he is.

Merlin is bringing a headache.

He was too rushed off his feet today to grab lunch, and his head is pounding. He contemplated staying at home, but it’s not as though his location is going to fix his migraine. At least if he goes to Arthur’s, he can fall asleep with his head in Arthur’s lap.

Leon answers the door. “Hello, Merlin.”

“Hey,” Merlin smiles weakly.

Leon’s forehead crinkles. “Are you okay?”

“Headache,” Merlin admits, unwinding his scarf. “Is everyone else here?”

“Arthur is in the kitchen with Percy. No sign of Gwaine.”

Arthur is lent against the kitchen counter, laughing with Percival. His face lights up when he sees Merlin, then plummets again when Merlin rubs his temples. “Merlin, are you okay?”

Merlin shrugs. “Just have a headache. Hi, Percy.”

“I’ll get you some water.” Arthur crosses over to him. He tilts Merlin’s chin up with one hand, resting his other palm against Merlin’s forehead. “Hm. You are a bit hot.” He pauses in his administrations to glare down at Merlin. “Don’t make a joke.”

Merlin sighs. “It’s too easy anyway. I’ll grab a water.”

Arthur looks at him worriedly. “You sure?”

“It’s a headache,” Merlin reminds him, pushing him towards the door. “Not the plague. It’s going to take forever to decide what we’re watching, so might as well make a head start.”

Arthur and Percival eventually do leave, but not before Arthur has kissed Merlin against the counter and Percival has cleared his throat awkwardly three times. 

Merlin drinks a pint of water and abuses the ice cube option on Arthur’s fancy fridge. He downs one glass, then refills it, wandering into the living room. He takes one look at everyone’s face, and frowns. “What is it? Can you really not decide on what to watch?”

“It’s not that.” Arthur’s face is grave, Leon’s own expression a mirror copy. 

“Right,” Merlin drawls, dropping onto the same sofa as Arthur. He kicks his feet up into Arthur’s lap. “I kind of got that.”

“It’s work,” Arthur sighs. He and Leon have a conversation with their eyes. Merlin would be jealous he’s not the only one who can do that with Arthur, but like. It’s Leon. “Leon thinks someone’s been leaking information to our competitors.”

“What? What information?” Merlin asks.

Leon’s eyes are steely. “Information about a new deal coming up. Another company somehow knows about it, and is trying to screw us over by offering a different deal.”

Percival sits forward. “But isn’t all the information at your firm confidential? Locked away?”

“That’s why it had to be someone within the company,” Arthur explains. “It had to be someone who had access to those files. And the access to the online files are restricted, so we think whoever it was waited until after hours and looked through the paper file.”

Leon continues. “We have a rough idea when the information was leaked, because the rival firm would have had to act as soon as possible. To undercut us before we secured the deal.”

Leon pulls his calendar up on his phone. “It had to be one of these three days, Wednesday, Thursday or Friday. No one works in the office over the weekend. And we had a meeting with the client that Tuesday, and the deal was still going ahead.”

“It would be pretty blatant to leak a paper file in a busy office. Someone would notice, so I think it happened when most of the staff had gone home for the day.”

“Don’t you have security cameras?” Merlin questions, then thinks: _ oh god, please don’t let there be camera footage of me sat in Arthur’s lap. _

“Not within the offices, just in the lobby and by the exits and entrances,” Leon advises. “And hundreds of people entered and left the building over those three days. It narrows it down if we think it happened after most people’s normal working hours.” He glances pointedly at Arthur, who pulls a face. “But we’ve interviewed the night staff, cleaners - nothing.”

Merlin whistles. Arthur’s rests his hands on Merlin’s calves and squeezes in agreement. “I was there one of the evenings. I ordered take away and then I went home, I didn’t see anything.”

Merlin tilts his head. “The night I was there?” 

Arthur nods. “The day we ordered Chinese food. It was just me and Merlin, then we left.”

Merlin takes a big sip of water. “And creepy bathroom man.”

Leon and Arthur; Merlin, oblivious, crunches up an ice cube.

“What was that, babe?” Arthur asks in a deceptively calm voice.

Merlin scowls at his cup, remembering the unpleasant encounter. “I really needed to pee, but there was some rude man in the bathroom, so I didn’t.”

“There was someone else there that night?” Leon demands. “In the bathroom?”

Merlin blinks, surprised at the urgency in his tone. “Yeah, like I said.”

Arthur’s grip tightens on Merlin’s legs. “Do you remember what he was like?”

“Angry,” Merlin grumbles. His head is throbbing again just remembering it, so he lifts his cold glass and presses it against his temple. “He must have been standing right by the door, because he barged right into me. Bruised my shoulder and everything.”

Arthur reaches over, pulling down the collar of Merlin’s shirt, exposing his bare shoulder. He runs his thumb over the discoloured skin. “This one? I noticed it the other day.”

“Yep,” Merlin confirms. “I mean, I bruise pretty easily anyway, but the guy had hard shoulders.”

“What did he look like?” Leon presses.

Merlin narrows his eyes, trying to remember. “Uh. Greasy hair? Dark greasy hair. I didn’t really take a lot of notice.”

Leon types something quickly into his phone, then shoves it into Merlin’s face. “Is this the person?”

Merlin tugs the phone from Leon’s hand, looking down at it. It’s a Facebook page, and Merlin nods. “Yeah. That’s him.”

“You have got to be kidding,” Arthur groans, and drops his head into his hands. “I am never going to hear the end of this.”

Leon is doing a very poor attempt at hiding his amusement. “Merlin, do you know who that is?”

“Why would I know who that is?”

Leon fails utterly at keeping a straight face and blurts, “It’s Cedric.”

“That’s Cedric!” Merlin screeches. He turns to Arthur, but Arthur is still moaning as though he’s in pain. “Oh my god, he did want to kill you!”

“I mean, he didn’t try to kill Arthur, he just tried to destroy his company by leaking files to our competitor,” Leon corrects. “But, yeah.”

Merlin bursts into laughter, grabbing Arthur’s shoulder and shaking it. “I told you he was suspicious! Gwaine was actually right, you know we are never going to hear the end of this.”

Arthur makes a noise suspiciously like a whimper.

Leon is staring at Cedric’s Facebook page curiously. “But how did we not catch him leaving on the cameras? We would have seen him leaving the lobby at such a late hour.”

“Because he didn’t leave,” Merlin realises. “He stayed there all night. That’s why Arthur didn’t see him. And why he was so close to standing by the door, he was listening to hear if anyone came in.”

“Stop enjoying this,” Arthur’s muffled voice says. 

“Can I see a picture of him again?” Merlin holds his hand out for the phone. “Arthur, he’s really weaselly looking, isn’t he? This is the guy who’s been bringing you cups of water? Like a - “

“Okay, that’s enough,” Arthur moans, finally dropping his hands. “Why does this always happen to me? I thought _ Vivian _was bad enough, but now Cedric.”

“Arthur,” Merlin coos. He puts his glass down on the floor, leaning forward and tugging Arthur into a hug. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“I don’t need protection,” Arthur mumbles into Merlin’s jumper. Merlin decides to take one for the team and climbs into Arthur’s lap, wrapping his arms around him. “I need a new job.”

“We need to investigate Cedric,” Leon corrects. “See if we find anything suspicious.”

“Oh, you’ll find something,” Merlin grins, conviction settling in his bones. “You’ll find it.”

  
  
  
  
  


-

  
  


“And that,” Gwaine finishes dramatically at the pub the next day, “is how Merlin got Arthur’s ex-boyfriend thrown into jail.”

“And that,” Merlin corrects, rolling his eyes, “is not what happened at all.”

“He wasn’t my ex,” Arthur says in disgust. 

“And he’s not in jail,” Merlin adds. “He’s being investigated for disclosing confidential information.”

Gwaine downs his pint and sets him down on the table with a clink. “Which he will be sent to jail for, because it’s _ Mithian _whose fucking investigating him. He’s as good as dead in the water.” 

“Speaking off - “ Merlin begins, and wheezes when Arthur elbows him in the ribs. “You - you don’t even know what I was going to say!” 

“I do,” Arthur scowls. “Because you’ve been making the same water related jokes for the past _ hour _.”

“I promise I won’t make any more,” Merlin lies, and grins widely when Arthur looks at him suspiciously. “Are you getting a side?”

“Do I have a choice?” Arthur asks in long suffering voice. 

“What I don’t get,” Gwaine interrupts, pointing at the two of them. “Is how you weren’t jealous, Merlin.”

“Jealous of what?” Merlin snorts. “Cedric waiting on Arthur hand and foot? Arthur being drawn in by his stellar personality?”

“The man had the presence of a slug,” Arthur mutters under his breath, and Merlin has to bite his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

“Adults in adult relationships _ communicate _, Gwaine,” Merlin explains, adopting the most patronising voice he can. “Me and Arthur are going to order.”

Gwaine scowls at him. “You’re going to have a quickie out the back.”

Arthur slaps Gwaine on the back obnoxiously. “See. Communication.”

“I hate you both.”

Arthur just smirks, taking Merlin by the hand and pulling them both into the crowd. 

**Author's Note:**

> so story of this fic. wrote this. read it back. HATED IT. worried for a bit that it was really different from my usual stuff. decided i might as well post it as one) it's finished, two) i have decided i won't be needlessly negative about myself in 2020 and 3) maybe someone will like it and maybe i will do too some day
> 
> side notes for this fic -  
*merlin is baby. fight me  
*gaius does adopt the two cats  
*originally this story had a lot more on Arthur’s anxiety and Merlin’s own mental health, but it didn’t really fit with this particular story, so I don’t keep it in there. I would like to write a fic about Merlin struggling with his mental health, so that’s maybe what’s I’ll do next. After my wip. 
> 
> i currently have a WIP i'm in the middle of and i just wanted to reassure people I haven't abandoned it or anything! I just had this idea in my head and it took over for a moment
> 
> comment if you like! i always treasure them


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